1964 Quadrangle - LaGrange College

To other eyes than ours it is
a mere death­cross
in the wind,
We will put aside these days like withered
springs, for we cannot climb above our town,
or we should see, at so great a distance, only
walls, and roofs, and roads. So high above
us, we could see no birth or death, no good
or evil, no joy or pain. But time, like some
wingless bird, will bring a gift of distance.
And we will stand on hills.
a shaded grass,
a splattering of water
in the sunlight.